The Lover Again

Make tomorrow different.
Make it a day that means something
to a heart that wanders
to the edge of the stars
and is ready to fly
into blindness,

ready to forget
the past of too many sorrows
where flame stripped
all the layers of longing away
and left me naked, standing alone
in front of a laughing god.

Let Him, the knowing one, trace
the shape of my heart
with your fingers--

leave me wanting
nothing more than my initials
carved in wet sand
and temporarily sheltered
by sea shells
on an impossible winter day.

Sing to me
with God's plentiful voice,
in rhythms tapped out
on the bleached skin
of this body.
Hear the emptiness of blood pumping red
and,yet, full of breath, in this hollow place.

Turn me around,
if you have the courage to face me,
exhausted with pure air
and shining like the moon,
waking me unexpectedly
before I set silently
at the pink edges
of another dawn.

Make me the lover again,
waiting and always changed
by the passing of one
precious day

resurrected by a single,
trembling

kiss.

Heat of The Soul

We didn't know
that we weren't here
when we first admired
the shadows of the dream
we had together
expecting love.

We didn't know
that we were only shells
for the soul,
only here to work out some lesson
where karma burns
the contract of another life
with only the ashes
of an idea of the self
remaining.

We thought
that we had traveled
so far
to fall again
into the embrace
of loving kindness
and the heat of belly
against belly,
forgetting that we
are always making love.

Come find me
in the sacred spaces
of an afternoon
before this body turns
another year on the calendar.

Before we turn back
to the center of all knowing.

Press your face
against the misted glass
of the mirrored window
of this train--

before she leave the station,
before it is too late
to breathe
one last breath
together

knowing the indescribable
heat of one soul
splitting.

Knowing the pain
of one more birth.